


This is 'Us'

by Saunter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Mild Angst, Sex-repulsed!Oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7409665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saunter/pseuds/Saunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa wants to go through with sex, but he really can't and Iwaizumi reminds him that there's so much more to them than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is 'Us'

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write emotional sex but I couldn’t. So here’s just sex-repulsed!Oikawa and Iwaizumi being a complete sap.

He's gentle. Way too gentle.

Oikawa's body is strung tight, every fiber in his muscle taut, ready to fight or flee. He doesn't want to do either, but Iwa-chan's got him flat on his back, pinned on one side by his knee and the other by the dip of his waist. Oikawa shuts his eyes tight, telling himself to breathe, and grasps onto Iwaizumi's hands hard, slim fingers digging between the valleys of brusque knuckles, as if he's afraid to fall.

His nerves are on alert and his senses are turning every which way, because this is new and this has always been _no_ before and this is―scary. Every point of contact is a kindling of fire and no, Oikawa can't calm down, he can't do this, he can't―

“Oikawa,” he hears, and suddenly it's as if he can breathe again, as if he wasn't before, but maybe that's how it was because Iwaizumi pries his hand away to brush at Oikawa's cheek. “Hey, _breathe_. It's me.”

Oikawa releases a shuttering breath before opening his eyes, confused because he doesn't remember closing them, and breathes at the sight of Iwa-chan in front of him, with those gently slanted eyes and that neatly tanned skin. He sighs out Iwa-chan's name, face tilting just slightly to fit into the cusp of his palm. He feels drained already, and Jesus, they haven’t done anything other than kiss and press Oikawa to the bed. The pounding of his heartbeat is uncomfortably loud in his chest and in his ears, but Iwaizumi doesn't move as he watches Oikawa calm his breath.

His eyes are closed again, when Iwaizumi asks how he’s feeling. And when Oikawa takes a moment too long to reply, Iwa-chan’s pulling away from him so Oikawa panics, yanks him back, because no, he _wants_ this but he needs time and Iwa-chan needs to _stay_. Iwa-chan falls beside him on the bed, and Oikawa doesn’t try to see his reaction before he’s clinging to him, long limbs wrapping all over like a cobra, his face pressed into a hard chest. This is fine. He’s used to this. It’s easier to breathe when he feels Iwa-chan’s body relax, when a familiar hand runs through his hair, and when a rough voice speaks his name.

“Oikawa,” he hears, just above his head, “it doesn’t have to be today.” Fingers twirl at his hair. “It doesn’t have to be ever.”

But that’s not what he wants to hear.

His forehead is tight, scrunched up in a frown, and he clings harder to Iwaizumi, inevitably smiling at the “unff” of Iwaizumi’s discomfort. But Iwa-chan lets him, just starts tugging lightly at Oikawa’s hair again.

It’s hard to speak, not when his throat is all choked up and his voice is clogged. Oikawa finally loosens his grip, but just as quickly he’s pushing Iwaizumi to his back and throwing a leg over his stomach. Again, Iwaizumi just lets him. It makes Oikawa clench his fists, clutching wrinkling fabric between his fingers. He frowns down at Iwaizumi, who only peers up at him with the gentlest eyes, as if trying his hardest to tell Oikawa ‘ _it’s okay.'_ The problem is that it _isn’t_ okay.

“Why do you keep _saying_ that?” Oikawa shouts, surprised at the volume and the solidity of his voice. He was so certain it’d be breaking. Well, it just might be getting there, because he can feel the lump growing in his throat.

“Why do you keep saying that it’s okay?” he repeats, the vigor in his eyes dying down to the uncertainty in his heart. “Why is it okay to you?” Oikawa can’t meet Iwa-chan’s eyes anymore. So he just stares at the point between his fists. At a beautiful, freckled tan. “I want you,” he says, feeling a tremble start up. “I want you to want me.” He bites his lips, continues, “And I want to be yours.” The tail end of his sentence almost squeaks, and he’s glad he got it out before he couldn’t, but he’s still avoiding Iwaizumi’s eyes, because he has no right to be getting angry. Not when all that Iwa-chan’s doing is for him. Not when he’s the one with the problems and Iwa-chan’s the one waiting on him. Not when all of _this_ wouldn’t be if it weren’t because of his stupid, stupid―

Iwa-chan doesn’t say anything, but he lifts his hand to cup Oikawa’s cheek, gets him to look him in the eye. It makes Oikawa feel worse, because there’s nothing but earnesty in there.

“I didn’t say it’s okay,” Iwa-chan says softly, “but it is if you don’t want to.” There’s a moment, and Oikawa’s confused, wants to retort, but Iwa-chan continues not long after. “I want you. There’s no way that I don’t. I want you so much that I think I’m going crazy. I want every piece of you to be mine and I want it engraved so deeply in you that your DNA remembers that you’re mine. But sex is only a part of it,” Iwaizumi says as he brushes some fallen bangs out of Oikawa’s eyes. “Sex is such a small part of it, when I can still touch you, when I can kiss you, when I can hold you close every night and hear you breathe. Get it out of your head that sex is the ultimate way you can give yourself to me.”

Oikawa hates it when Iwa-chan suddenly becomes so eloquent at the worse times. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s either to yell at Oikawa or to say things like _these._ Oikawa hates it. He hates it so much, because his vision gets all messed up. And Iwa-chan would start treating him like a kid, like now―he’s got his arms out wide and murmurs, “Come here.”

Oikawa feels the tears of frustration burning at his eyes as he flops down onto Iwaizumi, who lets out another huff of air as he lets Oikawa settle on top of him.

“Shit, you’re heavy,” he mutters, even though his arms weave around and nestle at the dip of Oikawa’s back anyways.

He might’ve received a retort from Oikawa at another time, but at this moment Oikawa just makes a noise and burrows his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck. Iwaizumi turns his head once Oikawa stops shifting and presses a long kiss to the tufts of his hair.

“Let’s take a nap and then get dinner,” Iwaizumi suggests, and Oikawa is still wallowing in a flurry of frustration, anger, defeat, and relief.

He lets himself calm down with the way Iwa-chan plays with his hair, and finally mumbles with a pout in his voice, “You owe me dinner.”

Iwaizumi laughs and concedes. “Okay, okay. Come sleep with me and then I’ll make you dinner.”

Oikawa grunts, wanting to keep acting spoiled because Iwa-chan lets him, and nuzzles closer against him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> http://saunterfics.tumblr.com


End file.
